Reconstruction
by Dragon-Sigma
Summary: Iroh has never been one to stand by when balance and justice are at stake.


**(Note: Crossposted to Archive of Our Own under the name Dragonsigma along with the rest of my ATLA/LOk work. That site will be updated more often.)**

It had been quiet, surprisingly, something the General hadn't expected. So many had died, so much of the city lay in ruins. But even without Lin Bei Fong, the police force was steadily fixing problems: questioning those close to Amon, cordoning off dangerous buildings, broadcasting press releases. The metalbenders picked through the wrecked buildings for survivors, shifting stone with their bending and wood with their glove-whips. A call had gone out for healers, and makeshift tents had been set up on the roads for them to work.

The Avatar and her allies were on their way to the South Pole and Republic City was left to those who remained. Those left to sort through the rubble of the city his grandfather had intended for peace.  
Iroh had led the police to Hiroshi Sato's airfield at once, ignoring the awed whispers of some of the younger officers. As a boy, he had loved the attention being Fire Prince had earned him, until he learned it made friendships awkward and brought people to him who sought only their own gain. This, and the constant judgment, were trials he had lived with all his life.

The force quickly got to work investigating the inventor's secrets. They soon had things under control, and Iroh began to seek out other ways in which he could help. Overseeing others had never really appealed to him. It might be his job to command his crew, and he might be skilled at it, but he always preferred working alongside them. Getting something done, not being a useless figurehead. Strategy did not preclude action; he might organize the attacks but he never stood back when he could help.

Living up to his grandfather's expectations, and his legacy.

There were his men to consider. He owed his own survival to the Avatar, but the rest of the sailors had not been so lucky. Most of his crew had died in the attack, drowned in the bay or killed by the bombs, and for those he could do nothing. Could he have been better prepared? No, it was best to save those thoughts for later. The deaths weighed on him, a feeling a man born in peacetime, even a military man, could never have anticipated. Later, later he would mourn the lost. For now he had to focus on the living.

A few had survived, swept to the docks on scraps of the destroyed ships, miraculously unseen by the bombers. He'd made sure the injured got to the best Healers in the city. Any complaints from these had been quickly silenced by the assurance that the Fire Lord would cover any and all costs.

He wandered near the city center, deciding to find any available housing for the surviving sailors. With their ships destroyed, they needed accommodations until more arrived. Of course, he would not take anything needed by the citizens of Republic City, and he would pay well for what he did.

A sound of things crashing and breaking caught his attention. Screams and the chaotic noise of fighting benders followed. He turned down the street and hurried towards what he quickly saw to be a half-destroyed furniture shop. He noticed with a moment of guilt that the detached wing of an Equalist biplane had smashed through the roof, leaving dust and building materials scattered among the ruined merchandise that had toppled off the shelves. Further back in the wreckage, he saw a man rummaging in a crushed safe, shoving bags of coins into a dirty sack. And he saw another criminal towering over the shopkeeper, holding a blazing handful of flame in the terrified man's face. Within a moment Iroh strode across the shop, almost without decision. The third member of the gang launched icicles towards him, but the General swept these aside in an arc of flame.

"Stop this!" he demanded, and pulled the firebender back by his arm. Instead of attacking, the criminal simply looked at Iroh and grinned.

"Hey man," he motioned to the waterbender, "we've got company."

"Stop this! There are laws in this city," Iroh repeated. The man at the safe grunted and stood up.

"You must be new around here," he sneered. "We're the Triple Threat Triad. You see, boy, we run this city. This is our neighborhood. Nothin' ya can do about it. That's the law in these parts."

Iroh carefully kept his eyes on the three benders, while, in their lapse of attention, the shopkeeper tried to creep out the door. A few steps outside the man tripped over a rock, and the Triad, alerted by the sound, lashed their elements at him... to be met with a shield of orange fire.

The Triad stared into the flame and Iroh's stern face behind it, fear and anger fighting for prominence in their expressions. A few long moments passed this way, then, with a clanging of metal footsteps, a police officer hurried into the building, the shopkeeper following a few paces behind. With a sharp motion of her arm, the metalbender shot steel cords from her wrist, tangling the three criminals in wire. She nodded at Iroh, who finally dispersed the wall of flame.

An hour later, after the tiring process of introducing himself and giving his account of the crime, Iroh entered the near-empty officers' room and sat at a table across from the still slightly dazed shopkeeper. The officer in charge of the station in the absence of Saikhan and most of the force had settled the man in here with a cup of tea as soon as he'd told his story. The shopkeeper- Earth Kingdom by heritage, with his family safely in another district of the city- was quiet a few moments, then spoke.

"Thank you for that, sir. I really thought they were going to kill me this time."

"This has happened before?"

The shopkeeper looked surprised. "Of course. They're always scrounging around, taking what they can. Just got a bit more daring this time."

"They are an organized crime group? And the police haven't stopped it?"

"I don't think you understand, sir," the shopkeeper said, "this is just how it goes. We do our best to stay on their good side, but..." he looked down at his tea, "when they want something, they get it."

Iroh shook his head, resolute. "If we're restoring balance to this city, that means doing away with injustice. And this is injustice. It cannot be allowed to continue."

**(Comments will make my day! And I'll give you virtual tea and cookies.)**


End file.
